Knight Fall
by Rainack
Summary: When beautiful ex-homicide detective, Carlee Stanton, shows up on F.L.A.G.'s doorstep looking for protection and help in capturing the serial killer that nearly ended her life, she finds more than she bargined for in Michael Knight and K.I.T.T. Please R
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Knight Rider franchise. Michael Knight, K.I.T.T., Devon Miles, F.L.A.G., etc. belong to Glen A. Larson. Only Carlee, the Mutilator, and the plot of this story are mine.

Knight Fall

Chapter 1

Carlee cautiously peered around the door frame, service revolver in hand. Her partner's fate was unknown. The serial killer they'd been tracking for nearly ten months, the Millionaire Mutilator, had been lying in wait when they responded to the anonymous tip about the abandoned estate on the bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean. The caller had claimed to hear screaming from inside, and had said that they knew the estate's owner, a local millionaire by the name of Riley Simms, had gone to the home earlier in the day to prepare it for an open house.

She realized now that it had been a trap. The estate would take much more than one night to be prepared for an open house. The grounds were over grown with weeds, the windows were boarded over, and the interior was devoid of furniture.

In the past two months, the cat and mouse game the Mutilator and Carlee had been playing had gotten increasingly personal, for both of them. Carlee was determined to catch the man and see him locked up for the rest of his miserable life. The Mutilator had decided that the fact that Carlee wasn't a millionaire could be overlooked, this once.

He had his sights on her now. She was his next intended victim, and this was the trap he planned to catch her in.

She'd be damned if she was going to let him get the drop on her, though!

The house was dark and quiet. Carlee knew it was a large house. Five or six bedrooms, at least. She had come in through the front door, which was a large, heavy fixture made of solid wood. It had bounced off the entry wall with a resounding thud when she had shouldered it open, moments ago. She and her partner had timed their entries so that they both went in at the same time, and just seconds after she'd entered, she'd heard two shots. The first from an unidentifiable gun, the second unmistakably her partner's service pistol. Her partner's shot sounded like it had gone wide, though. Then she'd heard the sound of something large hitting the floor. Now silence reigned.

Carlee crouched down and moved quickly into the next room, a formal living room from the looks of it. There were two doors leading out into other areas of the house. Carlee chose the one that lead closer to the back of the house, it probably lead into the kitchen. She peered through the door, aware the whole time of the door behind her that she hadn't inspected yet, and the potential threat that could come at her from there.

After a quick glance through the second door, Carlee turned back to the one she intended to go through. Suddenly, she was sent reeling. Stars swam in her vision from the full force back hand she'd received. Her revolver went flying into the darkness, clattering against the far wall. That instant of confusion was all it took for him to get behind her and grab her, pinning her arms to her sides.

She lifted one booted foot and brought it down hard on the killer's foot. He grunted in pain, but his grip didn't loosen.

"Hi, sweety!" he hissed in her ear. "Oh, I've been so looking forward to meeting you!"

Saving her breath for the fight, Carlee managed to wiggle one of her hands behind her and grab a handful of the front of his pants. She squeezed with all her strength.

A high pitched scream echoed through the house. Carlee squeezed harder. With the increase in pain came a decrease in his grip on her and she twisted away, running for the front of the house.

The killer pulled his gun from his waistband, and fired two shots wildly at her. They both missed by several feet, but the muzzle flash nearly blinded her, causing her to lose her night vision.

In the confusion, Carlee had gotten disoriented and was actually running to the back of the house. She reached the back door, to find her partner lying dead on the threshold. His pistol was still in his hand, so she grabbed it, then whirled to face the madman chasing her.

"Drop it!" Carlee commanded, her pistol aimed steadily at the man's heart. She slowly backed out the door, putting distance between her and the man who was intent on taking her life.

Sirens blared in the distance, drawing closer with each passing second.

The Mutilator stopped, and bent down to place his gun on the floor. When he straightened back up, he lunged for Carlee. He covered the distance between them so fast, she didn't get a chance to pull the trigger. She was pushed backward by the impact and staggered back into the deck railing. Her breath left her in a rush and she nearly lost her grip on her weapon. The madman had her pinned to the railing with his body. One of his hands went to her throat, the other scrabbled to get her pistol from her.

Carlee brought her knee up into his already sensitive crouch and he doubled over. Then he was lifting her up, intending to throw her over the railing, into the sea below.

Having no choice, she let go of her weapon and grabbed hold of his hair. Pulling his head back, she brought her own forehead into sudden, hard contact with his. He howled in pain and dropped Carlee back onto the deck.

Carlee swung around with all her strength and kicked him in the back. He toppled to the deck and came up holding the gun Carlee had dropped.

A spotlight from above lit up the scene, making Carlee blink in the sudden light. Over the thudding of her heart, Carlee could almost make out the sound of a helicopter.

"Drop the gun!" a uniformed officer, who had just run through the open back door, commanded. His own weapon was trained on the Mutilator.

The Mutilator turned off the safety and pulled the trigger.

The uniformed officer returned the favor for Carlee. The Mutilator took the bullet high in the chest, fell against the railing, and then over it.

Carlee looked down at herself in shock. Blood was blossoming from her own chest. She collapsed to the deck, darkness embracing her.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Carlee only remembered bits and pieces from that night.

The bullet had missed her heart by mere centimeters, instead lodging itself high in her left lung.

The department had made her take disability, so here she was, forced out of the only job she'd ever known at thirty-two. She had argued with the brass, told them she was fine to keep working, but they hadn't seen it her way.

Then the phone calls had started. When she would answer, there was nothing but static on the other end.

Her old Sargent, and good friend, had put her in touch with some people he thought would be able to help her.

Now she stood at their door. F.L.A.G. the sign read. The Foundation for Law and Government.

Carlee rang the bell, not quite sure what to expect. She certainly didn't expect what she saw. Six foot three, give or take an inch or two, the man who opened the door had sun bronzed skin and dark, curly hair. He wore jeans, cowboy boots, a red button down shirt, and a black leather jacket. His face lit with a friendly smile when he saw Carlee. His deep blue eyes glinted with a hint of mischief.

"Hi!" Carlee smiled nervously. "I'm here to see Devon Miles. I'm Carlee Stanton."

"Oh! Hi! I'm Michael Knight," the man replied, an easy smile lighting his face as he stuck out his hand to shake Carlee's. "I think I remember Devon mentioning he was expecting you. Follow me, and I'll take you to him."

* * *

Devon looked up from the paperwork he'd been working on when Michael walked in followed by Carlee.

"Oh, Michael, I'm glad to see you've met Ms. Stanton," Devon said, as he rose to formally introduce himself and shake hands with Carlee. "She is your new assignment." Devin was an older gentleman. His neatly cut gray hair framed a distinguished face. When he spoke, Carlee caught a mild English accent.

Devon and Michael listened as Carlee described her last case as a homicide detective for the LAPD and her subsequent forced retirement, the phone calls, and her suspicions.

"So, you think this Mutilator some how managed to survive a bullet and fall down a bluff?" Michael asked at the end.

"Yes! This guy's a madman! He masterminded the kidnap and mutilation of six millionaires in LA in the ten months leading up to that night. He was fixated on me and he won't rest until he's killed me," Carlee replied, more than a little irked that this man was questioning her cop's instincts.

"Hey! Take it easy," Michael tried to sooth her. "I understand where you're coming from, I used to be a cop, too."

"I'm sorry, it's just these last two months, the phone calls. He's toying with me. Trying to make me crack. I'm afraid he may be succeeding. I've had to concentrate on getting back on my feet, so I haven't been able to try tracking him down. Damn! I just feel so helpless."

"Michael will look into the phone calls. In the mean time, I think you would be safer staying here at the mansion. Michael will take you to get some of your things," Devon said, concern written on his face.

Carlee rose, thanking Devon and Michael profusely. "I really don't want to be a bother," Carlee began, only to be cut off by Devon and Michael who simultaneously told her it was no trouble.

Michael rose and followed Carlee out the front of the mansion. "If you don't mind, we'll take my car," Michael said, motioning to a shiny, black T-top Trans Am.

Glad to let someone else drive for a change, Carlee happily acquiesced.

Carlee couldn't believe the interior of the car. The dash board had more lights, buttons, and dials than she had ever seen in a car before. She thought they might be appropriate for the space shuttle, or the star ship Enterprise, but not a T-top.

Michael took in her amazement with a smile. "Sure is something, isn't it?"

A small shiver made its way up and down her spine when Michael smiled, and her stomach began to do cartwheels.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Michael had noticed something about Carlee the moment he'd opened the door. Oh, sure, she was something to look at, but there was more to it than that. Something he didn't usually attribute to women. She was fierce. This was no damsel in distress. She stood five foot seven, slim, but not skinny. Her short dark hair glinted in the light and her blue eyes took in everything around her. Her movements were sure and swift.

Suddenly realizing he'd been holding his breath not for the first time since he opened the mansion door and saw her, he released it and drew in another. Being around her made him forget to breath!

The ride to her place was uneventful, and they rode in silence.

Once they reached her place, Michael offered to come in with her, but Carlee insisted she would be fine.

"I was a cop, remember!" she nearly snapped, at one point. The feelings stirring inside her were scaring her into this reaction.

When Carlee had disappeared inside, K.I.T.T. said, "What's wrong, Michael? My life signs monitor indicates your breathing is labored. Are you feeling ill?"

"I'm not sure what's going on, K.I.T.T. I've never reacted this way to a woman before. Some how, though, I don't think the feeling is mutual."

A scream came from the house and Michael was instantly out of the car, running up the walk. K.I.T.T. was scanning the house and relaying information to Michael.

"Carlee is at the back door of the house, Michael. She appears to be alone."

"Thanks, K.I.T.T.," Michael said into his comlink, and headed in the direction K.I.T.T. had given him. "Carlee?" he called out, attempting to keep the panic out of his voice.

"Oh, damn!" Carlee exclaimed, "I'm alright, Michael! The neighbor's dog just came barreling out of no where and startled me."

Michael took a breath to calm his breathing, and looked around. Carlee was standing at the back door of the house, a bag of cat food in hand. The back door lead out of the kitchen to a good sized backyard.

"I kind of care for the local stray cats. Not knowing when I'll be back again, I wanted to leave them at least some food, but with that mutt out there, I can't," Carlee explained, putting the bag back in a plastic container by the door.

Just then, the phone rang. Carlee jumped, looking nervously at the phone.

"Do you want me to get it?" Michael asked gently.

"No! I'll get it!" Carlee snapped, more harshly than she'd intended. She grabbed the phone, nearly shouting, "Who is it!" into the receiver.

At the same time, Michael spoke into his comlink, "K.I.T.T., see if you can get a trace on that call."

For the first time, he spoke. "Carlee! Carlee! Is that any way to talk to an old friend? Who's the new friend with the shiny T-top?"

"Come find out!" Carlee growled back. One part of her mind registered the fact that he must be somewhere close by, or have some way of monitoring what she was doing, since he knew about Michael.

"Oh, don't worry. I will. We've still got some unfinished business, you and I. I'll be in touch!" With that, the phone went dead.

Hand trembling, Carlee found it difficult to get the phone back on its cradle, but finally succeeded.

"Get anything on that call, K.I.T.T.?" Michael asked into his comlink.

"Negative, Michael, the call was too brief."

Carlee momentarily forgot her anxiety and stared at Michael. "Who are you talking to?"

"Come outside, I've got someone I want you to meet," Michael said, gesturing for Carlee to follow.

"Hang on, I might as well grab my suitcase so I don't have to come back in." Carlee quickly walked to her room and grabbed the packed bag from the bed.

She locked up and followed Michael back to the car.

Once in the car, Michael said, "K.I.T.T., say hi to Carlee."

"Hi, Carlee, it's nice to meet you," said a New England accented male voice.

Carlee's mouth dropped open, "What, I mean, who, where!" Carlee couldn't string together a coherent sentence.

"I am the voice of the Knight Industries Two Thousand. K.I.T.T., this car," the voice replied.

"No, way! A talking car!" Carlee exclaimed.

"Pretty much my reaction when I first met him," Michael agreed.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

K.I.T.T.'s garage was a combination of garage and office. Michael had told Carlee that when he worked on paperwork, between assignments, he liked to stay close to his partner and best friend. It made it easy to get details from K.I.T.T. to put in the reports that had to be filed after assignments. Also, Michael just plain enjoyed K.I.T.T.'s company.

Now Carlee paced the perimeter of the space. Devon had pulled some strings and gotten all of the files on the Millionaire Mutilator transferred to F.L.A.G. Carlee, Michael, and K.I.T.T. had spent the last three days pouring over all of it.

Carlee felt as if she were a string too tightly strung on a guitar. One pluck, and she'd snap. As she paced, she muttered under her breath, "I know those files like the back of my hand. There's nothing we've missed. No significant leads. How can there be no significant leads! The man killed six people that we know of! We never even found the primary crime scene, just the body dump sites."

At one point, Carlee stopped and whirled toward K.I.T.T. "K.I.T.T., run the prints from the file. Check them against every fingerprint database."

"I already have, Carlee. This person has never been fingerprinted for any reason," K.I.T.T. replied.

Carlee whirled around and resumed her pacing.

Michael walked back in with two cups of coffee. He smiled over at Carlee, holding up one of the coffee cups. "Ready for a break?"

"No! As long as this guy is on the loose, there's no time for relaxing!" Carlee snapped back. Realizing what she'd said, Carlee's eyes widened. She whirled on her heel and ran to the connecting door of the mansion, retreating to her room.

Looking stricken, Michael put the coffee cup down and started after Carlee.

K.I.T.T.'s voice brought him up short,"I don't think she meant it like it sounded, but maybe you should let her have some time to cool down."

The next day, Carlee had apologized to Michael, but she remained very cool toward him, and avoided him whenever possible.

* * *

"I can't keep hiding here. It's been a month and we haven't come up with any new leads!" Carlee exclaimed, frustrated at the lack of progress in tracking the Millionaire Mutilator as well as the increase in her emotional turmoil when she was near Michael Knight.

She and K.I.T.T., on the other hand, had become fast friends in her time at the mansion, but any time Michael would show up, she'd retreat to her room.

Michael was convinced Carlee disliked him. On the other hand, his feelings were growing the other way day by day.

"Maybe you're right," Devin replied. "The phone calls have been going to your house, perhaps Michael and K.I.T.T. should go stay with you there."

At that, Carlee panicked, "Um, uh, I think I just need a few hours away from here, that's all." Michael and her, at her house? No! Wasn't happening!

* * *

"She hates me, I just know it, K.I.T.T." Michael said that afternoon, just after Carlee had fled from him yet again.

"Did you ever consider that perhaps she does like you, but is frightened by her feelings?"

"That's sure not the impression I'm getting. When she's forced to stay in the same place as me, she snaps at me." Michael sighed. "She's very nearly handed me my head on a platter several times."

"I can talk to her, if you want," K.I.T.T. responded. He hated it when Michael was distressed, and right now, Michael was beyond distressed. He was down right miserable.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Carlee was jogging around the polo field in front of the estate. K.I.T.T. was keeping careful watch nearby, his scanners tracking even the slightest movement up to a quarter mile around the estate.

It was a warm day and Carlee was breathing more heavily than usual. Her injured lung was still healing from the bullet that had nearly cost Carlee her life. Sweat dripped from her hair to her neck, then down her back, sending pleasant coolness down her back.

As she jogged, she thought. She was trying to come up with a new angle on the Mutilator, but her thoughts kept straying to Michael. She'd never felt this way about a man before. Over the years, she'd had her share of intimate relationships, but none of those men had ever made her feel like this.

She didn't know what scared her more, knowing he obviously felt attracted to her, or the longing she felt to let something come of it and be damned with the consequences.

Carlee was afraid that once the Mutilator was caught, and she and Michael could go their separate ways, Michael would be ready to move on. She didn't know if she could take that.

Carlee had reached the front of the mansion, where K.I.T.T. was parked beneath one of the many shade trees. Carlee stretched out on the cool grass in the shade of the same tree. As she relaxed, her heart slowed to its resting pace. She watched the red scanner above K.I.T.T.'s grill sweep back and forth hypnotically.

"He loves you, you know," K.I.T.T. said, quietly into the peacefulness.

"What are you talking about?" Carlee asked warily.

"Michael loves you, and you love him. If you'd just admit it, life would be easier for both of you," K.I.T.T. replied.

"It's not that simple, K.I.T.T."

"I'll be the first to admit, I don't know everything there is to know about human behavior or emotions, but I fail to see how something like two people loving each other could be other than simple," K.I.T.T. replied.

Carlee sat up, running her fingers through the green blades of grass. "Well, for one thing, there's a difference between attraction and love."

"Yes, I know. Attraction is a feeling that can pass. Love is something that can seem to happen anew many times between two people. It doesn't fade. Michael's heart beat becomes erratic whenever you are in the same room together. I catch you glancing at him from the corner of your eye. Your heart rate quickens at odd times."

"Okay, I get the picture, K.I.T.T.," Carlee interrupted. "There's also the question of the future. Michael and I lead separate lives, and after the Mutilator is captured, we'll be going back to them."

"But you have said you are retired. Doesn't that mean you could do whatever you please? Even stay here?" K.I.T.T. asked, clearly puzzled by Carlee's resistance to something she clearly wanted.

Carlee sighed, not sure how to respond to that.

"Shouldn't you at least let Michael have some say in this? His feelings are in this as much as yours are," K.I.T.T. continued.

Michael came walking up to K.I.T.T. and Carlee just then, a towel in his hand.

Carlee reddened slightly, wondering if he'd overheard any of the conversation she'd just had with K.I.T.T.

If he had, he didn't let on as he said, "Devin suggested we go check out the crime scenes of the six murders and your attack, see if K.I.T.T. can come up with anything the C.S.I.s missed.

Carlee accepted the towel Michael handed her. Dabbing at her face and neck as if they were still damp from her jog, Carlee hoped Michael would attribute her blush to the exertion of jogging.

"I doubt we'll find anything new, but at this point, I'm up for anything. Just let me go take a quick shower," Carlee replied, getting to her feet.

Michael sat down on the grass, picking a blade and sucking on the end of it. He watched Carlee, thoughtfully, as she sprinted to the front door of the mansion.

"So, what were you too talking about out here?" he asked, when Carlee had disappeared inside.

"I'm sorry, Michael, but it was a private conversation. You would have to ask Carlee about it," K.I.T.T. replied.

"Oh," Michael said, hurt that K.I.T.T. would keep anything from him. K.I.T.T. had never kept anything from him before. Yet at the same time, he was happy that K.I.T.T. was keeping Carlee's confidence.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Reexamination of the scenes where the six murder victims had been found had turned up nothing new. Those scenes were secondary crime scenes, the primary scenes having never been found. Plus, too many months had past and any evidence that might have remained was too far degraded for K.I.T.T. to pick up.

At the mansion where Carlee and her partner had been attacked, Carlee decided she wanted to get out and look around. Her memories of that night had still not returned and Carlee felt sure a vital clue could be contained in those missing memories. Perhaps walking the scene would bring them back.

K.I.T.T. sat in the driveway, scanning the house and surrounding area. Michael followed Carlee.

"We got dispatch's call about eight fifteen p.m., and got here near nine p.m.," Carlee said, as she walked up to the front door. The tattered remains of yellow crime scene tape hung from the door frame. Since the house was part of an on-going investigation, it had not been released back to the owner.

The door proved to be locked, but Devon had given them the keys. He had gotten them from a friend at the department.

Carlee unlocked the door and shouldered it open. The interior was gloomy, but not as dark as it had been that night. The boards covering the windows kept out a good majority of the afternoon sunlight.

The formal living room held no furniture, and the floor was crisscrossed with fading footprints in the layer of dust. Carlee could barely discern the marks of her first struggle with the Mutilator.

"He backhanded me, causing me to drop my weapon. Then he grabbed me from behind. I managed to get a good grip on the front of his pants, though," Carlee's face lit in a snarl at the memory.

Michael shuddered. Part of the shudder was due to what had nearly befallen Carlee here. Part of it was due to what he now realized this amazing woman was capable of. It made him respect and love her all the more.

The comlink on Michael's wrist beeped.

"Yeah, K.I.T.T." Michael responded.

"Michael, I've discovered a hidden basement under the main structure." K.I.T.T. told Michael how to access it through the master bedroom.

Carlee had only been half way listening to the conversation going on behind her. Mention of the basement brought her full attention to Michael. "There was no basement on the original plans," Carlee said, excitedly.

"This could be the primary crime scene you didn't find in your original investigation," Michael said, an excited gleam in his eyes.

Carlee raced into the master bedroom, ready to open the basement and see what there was to find.

Michael followed after her. He grabbed her arm, stopping her.

Carlee swung around to face Michael, a fierce look in her blue eyes. "Let go of me!"

"Carlee, I'm as excited about this as you, but we have to let the homicide department know about this. They need a clean scene for the C.S.I.s, not a scene contaminated by us."

"I'm not waiting, Michael. I'm going down there! I know what I'm doing, I won't contaminate the scene. You can come with me or you can wait here."

Michael could tell from the look in her eyes that he wasn't going to be able to dissuade her. "Okay, but at least let me go get flashlights out of K.I.T.T."

"Hurry!" Carlee replied, almost desperately.

By the time Michael got back with two high powered flashlights, Carlee had gotten the hidden door opened. It had been disguised as part of the original hardwood floor, blending in so perfectly that it was only visible if you knew what to look for.

Shining their flashlights through the door, they saw a set of stairs leading down into darkness.

"There must be a concentration of lead somewhere in the basement. I cannot scan the interior," K.I.T.T. told Michael through the comlink. "We won't be able to communicate while you're down there," K.I.T.T. cautioned.

Carlee and Michael proceeded cautiously down the steps. The basement was partitioned into at least two rooms. The one they were in was empty except for a sink on one wall and a drain in the center of the concrete floor. Compared to the house above, the basement was cool, almost chilly. It had the usual musty odor that basements had, but it also had a very strong coppery smell. Carlee suspected that both drains would test positive for blood.

The other room had a padlocked door.

"Damn!" Carlee exclaimed when her flashlight lit up the lock.

"Not to worry," Michael said, pulling a lock pick from his sleeve.

Carlee moved aside so Michael could work his lock picking skills on the lock. Within a few seconds, Michael had the lock open and the door was swinging open.

Michael took two steps into the room, preparing to move out of Carlee's way, when he heard her scream his name. Too late, he registered the two by four swinging at his head. He was only able to slightly deflect the blow, which landed on the back of his head. His vision swam and he fought to hold on to consciousness.

Carlee screamed again, then was silent. "Carlee!" Michael tried to call out, but it came out as, "Caa.."

Stumbling, barely able to stay upright, Michael ran for the stairs. He had to crawl up them on hands and knees to keep from falling over. His only thought was that the only way he could help Carlee in his present condition was to get to K.I.T.T., or at least get back in contact with K.I.T.T. He didn't think he was going to be able to stay conscious for much longer.

When he got through the basement door, he collapsed to the bedroom floor, and just managed to call to K.I.T.T. through the comlink, "He's got Carlee!" before he passed out.

"Michael! Michael!" K.I.T.T.'s worried voice came through the comlink. K.I.T.T. continued to try to raise Michael on the comlink, while he also tracked the Mutilator's movements with Carlee.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

When Michael came to, it was pitch black in the house. He tried to stand, but abruptly had to sit down again to avoid passing back out. Moving to a standing position more slowly this time, Michael finally managed to stay upright. His head throbbed where the wood had made contact with flesh. Putting his hand gingerly to the spot, he felt dried blood.

"Michael! You're conscious!" K.I.T.T.'s worried voice came over the comlink. The sudden sound made Michael's head hurt worse.

"Ugg," Michael groaned back, "K.I.T.T., tell me you were able to track her!" Michael moved toward the front door as quickly as he could.

"Yes, Michael. He took Carlee out a back entrance to the basement. He had a car waiting there. We must hurry, though, you've been out for nearly two hours!"

Michael groaned, cursing himself for assuming the room would be empty just because the lock was on the outside of the door. He should have assumed there was an exit to the outside of the house in that room.

K.I.T.T. opened the driver's side door when Michael ran out the front of the house.

"How far away are they, K.I.T.T.?" Michael asked, as he slid behind the wheel.

"They stopped half an hour ago. It's going to take half an hour to get there in pursuit mode."

Michael moved to shift the car into reverse, reversing his hand to grab the dashboard, to keep from falling over, even though he was sitting down.

"You'd better let me drive, Michael, you're in no condition." K.I.T.T. knew there was no way he was going to be able to talk Michael into letting him take him to the hospital and letting the police handle rescuing Carlee. On the other hand, he figured he could win the argument about who would drive.

"You got it pal! Just get us to her!"

K.I.T.T. put himself in Pursuit Mode, reversed out of the driveway, shifted the transmission into drive, and rocketed away from the abandoned mansion, toward Carlee's location.

Michael groaned as he was pressed back into the driver's seat, but managed to ask, "Did you contact the authorities?"

"I attempted to Michael, but they are experiencing problems with the emergency system again."

"Damn!" Michael cursed. "Hurry, Pal! We're her only hope!"

"Michael, there's something you should know about Carlee," K.I.T.T. began, knowing he shouldn't be telling Michael this, especially not under the present circumstances, but knowing Michael had the right to know. "Carlee loves you, too. She's just afraid of what will happen after this assignment is over."

Patting the dashboard, Michael said, "Thank you for telling me, K.I.T.T. Carlee and I are going to have a little talk, after we rescue her."

The black T-top sped down the road. K.I.T.T. zipped in and out of the sparse traffic, turbo-boosting when it was too dangerous to go around. The sun had finished setting and stars were beginning to twinkle in the sky.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Carlee hadn't been hit in the head, the way Michael had. Instead, she'd felt the hypodermic dart the Mutilator had shot at her sink into her neck. She'd swatted it away, but it was already too late. The concrete floor rose to meet her as she lost consciousness.

She had come to just moments ago, but she kept her eyes closed, giving the impression that she was still out. She could tell she was strapped to a metal table. By the sense of size she got, she thought she was in a warehouse, or some other kind of large building. She had no idea how long she'd been out, or what had happened to Michael after he'd been struck with the board.

It took all of her strength to keep from crying at the thought that Michael might be dead.

Carlee risked opening her eyes a slit. The ceiling above receded into darkness, air conditioning ducks and hanging light fixtures barely discernible, confirming her sense of a large space. Her limited peripheral vision showed no one near her. She risked opening her eyes a bit more. Turning her head slightly in both directions, she confirmed that at least for the moment, she was indeed alone. She was indeed in a warehouse, for there were stacked boxes all around. It appeared that the table she was strapped to was in the middle of a maze of boxes stacked nearly to the ceiling. There were two walkways leading to the area where she was.

Quickly taking stock of her situation, Carlee found she was securely strapped to the table, her hands and feet individually immobilized. On a table nearby were various instruments of torture.

A shudder of fear ran up and down Carlee's spine. She didn't give in to it, though. Not knowing if Michael was alive or dead, much less coming after her, meant the only person she could count on to get her out of this was herself.

Starting with her right hand, Carlee began to test the straps, looking for one that was even marginally weaker or looser than the others. Her left hand had the wiggle room she was looking for.

Her hand was soon raw from pulling against the ropes, but she was able to finally pull it free. She tried to free her right hand, but the ropes were tied too tightly to be loosened one handed. Carlee thought the table of torture tools might be within reach of her left hand, so she reached out toward it. Her finger tips brushed the edge of the table.

Straining as far as she could, she was able to just hook the under lip of the table with her fingertips. Leery of tipping the table over, she gently began to pull the table toward her. It scraped softly on the floor, causing Carlee to stop for a moment and listen. Satisfied that the sound had gone unnoticed, she continued pulling the table until the instruments on it were within reach.

She grabbed a wicked looking hunting knife, and quickly cut the other straps tying her to the table.

Just as she jumped down off of the table, she heard a door somewhere in the building open and close.

Carlee tried to gauge the direction the sound had come from, and chose the walkway she thought lay opposite the sound. Taking a firm grip on the knife, she edged quickly into the opening between the towering stacks of boxes.

The boxes had truly been set up to form a maze, for within minutes, Carlee had lost all sense of direction, and couldn't remember which turns she had made past the last one. The boxes were too big and stacked too high to see over, much less think about moving to make a more direct path to the building's exterior.

Carlee froze as she heard the table with the torture tools crash to the floor. He had discovered she had gotten loose.

"Carlee!" he made her name sound like a curse. The rage in his voice left her with no doubt that the only way she would get out of here with her life was if she took his.

A moment later, he spoke again, calmer this time, "Carlee, you won't escape. There's only one way out of this maze, and it wasn't the way you went. I will find you!"

Figuring silence was her ally at this point, Carlee kept silent. This seemed to enrage him further, for next she heard the table she'd been strapped to slam against a stack of boxes, sending them tumbling down in a maelstrom of sound. She began moving away from the sounds again, thinking that she might be able to see the building wall from an isle or two away, and some how manage to get over the boxes to it.

At each new turn in the maze, she stopped and listened carefully. She prayed he would make another sound, so she would have some idea of where he was, but he had gone silent, too. After listening carefully, she would peer around the corner, before moving out into the walkway.

She didn't know how long she had been working her way through the maze. It felt like hours, but she was pretty sure it had probably only been minutes. Suddenly, she felt a whisper of movement. She whirled, narrowly twisting away from the arm he had been about to wrap around her neck.

He reacted by swinging his right hand up to punch her. Carlee deflected the blow with her left fore arm. She then brought her right hand, with the knife, up in an attempt to stab him in the abdomen. He chopped his left hand down on her wrist, hitting a nerve which made her hand go numb.

The knife skittered away across the floor, and Carlee dove after it, knowing that if she didn't get it back, she was dead.

He dove after her, getting his hand around her ankle. He began to pull her away from the knife, but she brought her other foot up and kicked him right in the face. He screamed and released her ankle, as her boot broke his nose. Blood gushed past his fingers, as he held his hand to his face.

For the first time, she got a good look at him. He was nearly as tall as Michael. His brown hair, long enough to get a grip on with her hands during their last encounter, was now closely cut. His green eyes held a crazed, hollow look. His face sported a five o'clock shadow, which gave his handsome looks a roguish cast. His looks belied his evil nature.

With a grunt, he adjusted his nose, bringing the cartilage and bone back into alignment, which helped to stem some of the bleeding. He brought his attention back to Carlee.

Carlee held the knife firmly in her left hand, as her right was still partially numb from the chop across the nerve. She faced him squarely, daring him to advance on her.

"Give me the knife!" he said menacingly, taking a step toward her.

"I intend to!" she gritted out between clenched teeth.

He lunged for her, then, and she drove the knife home between two of his ribs.

His scream came out wet and bubbly, and he would have collapsed on top of her, if she hadn't shoved him off.

He fell to the floor, the knife sticking out of his side. His breathing was labored and wet. The knife had gone deep into his lung. Without help, he would probably be dead in minutes.

She heard another door slam open and a panicked voice yelled, "Carlee!"

"Michael!" Carlee screamed with relief.

"Carlee! Where are you?" Michael's voice was still panicked, but there was a hint of relief in it, too.

"Somewhere in this awful maze, Michael," Carlee's voice held a slight tremble. "The Mutilator is here, too. I stabbed him, Michael!"

"K.I.T.T., can you get me a layout of this maze? You better try the authorities again, too. They'll need to send an ambulance for the Mutilator." Michael quickly told K.I.T.T. through the comlink. "I'll be right there Carlee, just hang on!"

Michael followed K.I.T.T.'s directions and ran toward Carlee's location within the maze. When he got there, he took in the scene in one quick glance. Then turned to Carlee, pulling her into his arms. She didn't resist, in fact, she laid her head against his chest. Michael rested his cheek on her head, rocking her gently back and forth.

Minutes later, a patrol car and an ambulance rolled up outside the warehouse. Michael directed the patrolmen and the paramedics through the maze to where they were waiting, with the body of the Mutilator.

Carlee refused to leave Michael's side while they both gave their statements to the officers. In fact, she wouldn't even let go of his hand.

It was nearly midnight when the patrolmen finally said they had all the information they needed, and let Michael and Carlee go. Both were bone tired, and Michael still had one hell of a headache, but they were alive!

Half way between the building door and K.I.T.T., Carlee stopped. She pulled Michael around to face her, put her arms around his neck, and kissed him.

When she pulled away a few minutes later, she said, "Michael, I love you. I have since the minute I laid eyes on you. I was just afraid of what the future might hold. I don't care about that, now. If I only get a few days with you, then so be it. I'll cherish those days for the rest of my life. I'm so sorry about all of the mean things..." Carlee trailed off as Michael put his finger to her lips.

Michael couldn't believe what he had heard Carlee say. He had ached to hear her speak gently and lovingly to him. He had been so afraid she would reject him, something he had never before feared.

Michael took Carlee's hand and placed it over his heart, holding it there with both of his. Carlee could feel her heartbeat begin to match his, as the silence lingered for a moment longer.

When he spoke, it was only two words. "Marry me!"


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

They finally got back to the mansion around one a.m. Devon was pacing worriedly in the front hall.

"Are you two all right? K.I.T.T. called and told me what happened. Why are you two smiling like that?" Devon demanded.

"We made K.I.T.T. promise to let us tell you the most exciting part of the whole night!" Michael exclaimed.

"We're getting married!" They both said at once.

"Oh! My!" Devon exclaimed, his face lighting up. "Well, then, congratulations are in order."

* * *

Their blanket was laid over the sun warmed sand. Michael was stretched out on his back, one hand under his head, the other around Carlee who was leaning up against him. She could feel herself growing drowsy in the warmth of love and sunshine. K.I.T.T. was parked on the sand nearby, his red scanner sweeping back and forth. The ocean waves rolled in and out just yards away.

Carlee had never felt this at peace. The feeling had descended on her the moment she and Michael had said their vows. Michael, and even K.I.T.T. filled a void within Carlee that she hadn't realized was there until she had met them. Carlee felt that for the first time in her life, she was truly where she was meant to be.


End file.
